


461.

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: On July 14th of 1984, the day before the Canal Days Festival, Don Hagarty begged his boyfriend to skip town with him.





	461.

1.

At first he had gently nudged at the idea. Suggesting that the weather might be better elsewhere, and that he'd earned a few days off from work, so why not check out the scenery over in Newport. Maybe even ditch the States altogether and see what Canada was like. A breather from Derry might help further inspire Ade in his novel-writing. "I already checked the price of bus tickets if you're not up for playing 'who gets to drive, and who gets to sleep'." He'd nudged Adrian with his elbow, leaning his head in close.

Adrian had frowned. Not only did he hate cars, driving them, being _in_ them... But he was really looking forward to the upcoming days. "What? No. The festival's already set up. I wanna stick around and play some games or somethin'. I always found carnivals romantic, y'know?"

Maybe if Don had attended such an event anywhere but here, he might have agreed. But this was Derry, and the underlying filth of food made over kicked-up dust, flies landing on your eyelids, vomit being half-heartedly swept into an over-turned trash can from some kids who'd gotten drunk and then gone on a twirly ride - it all stood out far more than the sweet scent of cotton candy, than the sounds of laughter and jeering of friends. Adrian wouldn't know any better, because he'd not been to the festival yet.

Don knew. He always knew. And Adrian never believed him.

"Please, Ade?" Don had asked, light gone from his face now. Replaced by a quiet urgency. "I can't stand it here another second. I feel sick... I just -"

2.

The truth was that he'd had an awful dream the night before. A terrible nightmare that had awoken him, tossing and turning. Twisting the sheets. Adrian had woken right along with him. Had gotten him a glass of Derry's flat-tasting tap water, and rubbed circles into his back as his breathing evened. He'd asked if Don wanted to talk about it. "C'mon, babe, maybe it'll help you get back to sleep." But there was no sleep to be had after that. Except for Adrian, whom Don had eventually excused when he headed out to the living room, and turned on the radio for company instead.

Off and on, he'd spent hours thinking about the dream. Though the details were all completely washed out, the terror they'd instilled was far from gone. He kept thinking over and over again how Adrian wasn't safe. Checked on his partner a few times throughout the night when his pent-up nerves maxed out, making him think he'd go in to find a chest no longer moving, a beat-less heart. Even though each and every time he'd find the opposite, a peacefully sleeping man who hadn't a care in this world or the next, Don's notion that they had to get away persisted.

As soon as the several bus lines were to be open, he'd made his way over to check on pricing and scheduling. Then picked up some breakfast from a diner, and made his way home. Ade had poured his coffee and slumped over the type-writer on their kitchen table when Don arrived. He lifted the Styrofoam boxes of takeout, and grabbed silverware from the drawer before settling in adjacent, knees knocking.

Adrian didn't mention the bags under Don's eyes, or the red lines branching across them, but he gave him a _look_ that said he didn't quite understand how Don hadn't collapsed into a gutter somewhere along the way.

That's when Don brought up the suggestion. But it was more than that. Don was going to do everything in his power to convince Adrian, short of getting into a fight. Because the last thing he needed was for them to be separated by a wall of anger and confusion. How could he keep an eye on Adrian then?

3.

"Donny," Adrian said, after a drawn-out sigh. "Really. I'd rather stay here, and then I can just write my heart out if I get the inspiration. I'm feelin' really good this week."

He sounded so proud, already, of the writing that was yet to come. Blood pumping strong in his veins, synapses flaring with resolve and intent. Don's face fell, as Adrian turned from his half-eaten pancakes, back to his typing. A surge of regret ran through him, at having never read a part of Adrian's work. He kept its physical parts tucked away in a folder like a secret. Never telling Don more than a few names and vague details about the setting. Something that had been twelve years in the making, and Don could only name a handful of its contents. He'd asked, but never pestered. Not a big reader, as it was. But now, suddenly, he wished he'd really pressed the issue until he'd won. If he had, he'd have been able to ask questions about the work, gotten deeper inside Adrian's mind, and his drive to write.

He felt beat down, a second away from relenting. Always this way, when it came to Adrian's wishes. He loved to please him so much that he'd spent months ignoring his gut need to get the hell out of Derry, and never look back. Then the emotions from the nightmare - they licked up at his soul from every which way. And his brain screamed at him, not to give in this time. _For once, don't give in._

His hand encircled Adrian's wrist, halting his rapid movement. Adrian looked at him, a softly askance glare. "Don," he said, tone warning. They had discussed this before. When Adrian was writing, he needed to be left to it so he didn't lose his train of thought.

"I'm serious, Adrian. I'm dead serious."

Adrian clenched his jaw, and then let his captured hand fall to the table, his other coming to lie over Don's. "Can't we go in say, two weeks, when the festival's over and everything has settled? I mean, you haven't already _asked_ to use your holiday hours, have you? You _just_ brought this up."

Don had been lying about the hours anyway. He didn't care if he lost his job because they were too stuck in the mud to understand when he called in out of the blue to say he needed time off. They'd take it or leave it. It was out of his hands, far as he was concerned.

"It'll be fine," Don said, eyes dodging Adrian's gaze. Then another moment of silence passed, as he felt himself being studied. "I _have_ to leave, Ade. _Please_. I'm begging you. Come with me."

Patting his hand, Adrian sighed. "I have to finish this chapter," was all he said.

So Don ate his cold sausage and eggs in silence, having relinquished his hold on Adrian. Hoping and praying to a god he didn't believe in, that Adrian would say yes before the last bus left.


End file.
